Taste of Honey
by Throwerchick
Summary: Schuldig will wait all night for a chance to play with his favorite drunken assassin...and Youji's mind tastes even better when broken.


Taste of Honey

R rated for language and scandelous behavior...bad Schu! BAD!

_'Youji's thoughts'_

/Schuldig's thoughts/

Please give any comment you can.. This is my first fic, and I'd love any feedback.

His cigarette glowed faintly in the unlit room, the only indication that he was really there at all. Save for the occasional flicker of his old tarnished lighter that illuminated cold eyes and flaming hair, there was little light to break the darkness of the moonless night. He was silent, motionless. Waiting for someone he knew would come stumbling down the unlit sidewalks at any moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew his smoking could give away his position; that his prey might see the smoldering paper on the end of his cigarette like a beacon, or notice stray wisps of smoke as it drifted out of the widow where he stood vigil. It didn't matter though; it was a risk he was willing to take. Sitting alone in a dark room for hours would be unbearable without the small piece of death to pass the time, high by glorious high, stick by poisonous stick. He was never one for patience. Besides, in the belligerent state his prey was in this night, just like every Friday night, it was highly unlikely he would be paying attention to anything but the cement swimming before his feet. His concern was mainly for the others sleeping across the street; they were far more cautious, and would notice his presence if he weren't careful; and then all his plans would be in vain.

Finding him at the clubs he religiously attended would have been simple; he was a creature of habit for sure. The same popular dance clubs week after week, using his exotic looks to bypass long lines and earn free drinks from hopeful patrons until he was far from the pain of his existence. His mind was a delicious mix of self-doubt and guilt, anger and fear with cocky exterior to hide the self-conscious man inside. And oh, did the man loved to drink and dance away his troubles. But following him there would risk drawing attention to himself, and if his prey noticed him too soon, there would be no feast. Once the man in the window said that the human mind tasted like honey, but that wasn't entirely true. All minds had a slightly different flavor, depending on the mental state of its owner, the truth was that his favorite minds tasted like honey; sweet, golden and delicious – especially after the effort of attaining it. Bees don't often like sharing their nectar, so stealth and manipulation had the potential to yield nothing but hours of bliss, gorging on the sweet mind of his choosing. The closer he got to them, the more intense the taste, and this stumbling fool was as delectable as they came. He would wait all night if he had to.

Seven bourbon flavored camels later, his diligence paid off, and he heard the hum of a clouded mind approaching quickly. A knowing smirk snaked its way across his lips as Schuldig waited for the scene to unfold. The yellow cab stops on the corner two blocks from the little flower shop where Weiss they lived in what they thought was secrecy. The golden man with his honey-mind stumbles the rest of the way on foot, so the cabdriver won't know exactly where he lives. Such a good little assassin. Its actually quite a spectacle to behold, and much more entertaining when your privy to the silent thoughts of the beautiful drunken fool as he tries in earnest to make it to the safety of his bed.

'_Ok Yoj... just wait at the pole for a sec...just 10 steps to the next one...grounds not spinnin' too bad... you can do it.' _Schuldig laughed softly to himself, amused beyond all belief as Youji Koudoh, elite Weiss assassin, did everything in his power to keep his feet under him as he simultaneously fell and walked toward his next target; a telephone pole here, a light post there. Vertical stabilization for the equilibrium impaired. With each goal attained, Schuldig could feel him getting closer, his foggy mind completely focused on his task. Just two more lamp posts, and he would round the corner. Schuldig snuffed his cigarette on the faded pine windowsill, and let himself slip into the naïve mind that came stumbling closer and closer.

/Just cross the street...two lamps to go... you can do it./ Schuldig mimicked Youji's own voice, letting the suggestion seem as normal as the ridiculous routine he had fallen into every weekend. Youji stumbled across the street, too drunk to realize he had deviated from his usual path home. /'K Yoj...two lamps and you're at the front steps...in the endzone.../ The usually quick and capable assassin followed 'his' thoughts, staggering to the steps of the apartment building across the street from his home. Schuldig casually stepped into the corner, as he urged his new favorite toy up the old stair well and down the dark hall. He didn't even need his telepathic abilities to know where Youji was. The thump of a lithe body finding support on the walls, and the slide of heavy feet on the linoleum floor gave away his position to anyone bothering to pay attention. With the image of 'his' door firmly implanted in his mind, Youji fumbled with the knob and fell in a heap on the dusty abandoned floor of the empty apartment as the old door swung open. Schuldig watched, a predatory gleam in his cold eyes, as the practically helpless assassin actually crawled the rest of the way into the room, kicking the door closed behind him.

Schuldig was practically giddy with the combination of a mind to play in, and a very drunk bishounen to play with. He was amazed that Youji had yet to notice his presence in his mind let alone in the room. Apparently the patrons at the flashy nightclub had been very generous, because the Weiss kitten was about to pass out after the few feet he'd crawled into the darkness. It seemed his posture had been the only thing keeping him awake. It was almost too easy taking over his mind. Diving completely in and reveling in the foreign surroundings, his feral grin becoming even wider as Youji's own consciousness slipped toward the oblivion of dreams. Usually he had to probe carefully, find gaps in mental barriers and avoid suspicion before he was able to reach so far into his mind. Youji knew him after all, and under normal circumstances would be trying to kill him with the little wires he liked so well. It was funny how a little, well a lot, of alcohol changes the way one must approach another's mind.

Now in complete control of his kitten, Schuldig slipped from the shadows and sauntered toward the beautiful heap on the floor. Youji didn't fight it when strong arms hoisted him onto the bed across the room, and thanks to a little persuasion and creative interpretation, he didn't recognize the red hair and smirking face of his adversary either. He lay on his back, and almost purred as clever hands ran across his body, dipping below his spandex top and making him feel _so_ good. Schuldig was in heaven as well, lounging on his side while he explored the deepest corners of his kitten's mind as well as other things. The flood of suppressed emotions was intoxicating, and Schuldig grazed his lips across his kittens bronze skin as if he could really taste them pouring off of him.

Schuldig began his games, bringing out old secrets and memories Youji had locked way so he could taste the pain they evoked. Asuka's death, watching the bullet rip through her chest over and over. A mission where his carelessness landed the little Omi in the hospital, walking past the door that hid the remaining guard again and again. Killing a young woman by mistake, feeling his wires tear through innocent flesh as she suddenly tried to run from the scene. Schuldig threw the demons of Youji's past at him one after another, making him relive each detail as if the record of his life was skipping. He was bombarding him with his darkest secrets and lowest moments; flashing the images seemingly without rhyme or reason. There was a perfectly good reason however, the telepath enjoyed it. The torment was delicious.

He let his hands explore his kitten's flesh, almost losing himself in his toy's physical pleasure as it combined with the pain and the confusion the memories were causing. The drunken mind could not comprehend how he could think of such horrible things while seductive fingertips were sliding across his skin. Schuldig was pleased with the direction his toy was moving, unable to contain any of his feelings and oh so responsive. It opened the door for so many games to be played; he almost couldn't decide where to go next. Blatant molestation was always an intriguing idea, or Youji's secret obsession with his leader Aya could prove enjoyable; maybe the fact that Youji actually found him to be attractive, or perhaps he could use them all.

Suddenly Youji saw a different redhead leaning over him, and Schuldig fought to withhold a giggle as the honey of his mind suddenly became desperate and needy. Clumsy hands groped him, as surprisingly less clumsy lips found him as well. Even completely wasted, Schuldig had to admit his kitten could kiss. Schuldig was very pleased to find out the flesh tasted as sweet as the mind. Mint, cigarettes and alcohol; a luscious mix of flavors found behind the soft yet demanding lips. Grabbing hold of a lean hip, Schuldig pulled his ravenous kitten to him, reveling in the feel of a toned body against his own; bringing him closer and amplifying the intensity of his mind that much more. He let the kitten have his little dream with his icy leader for a moment longer. There was no rush to end the passionate kisses or bold hands so soon. He waited until Youji's breath became short before he became himself again to the drunken eyes. The fantasy came to an abrupt end. Causing total chaos in a beautiful mind was one of his greatest pleasures, and Youji panicked, every siren slowly going off as the realization hit him. He was kissing the enemy, and had liked it, even found himself excited by the wicked act of being intimate with an enemy; especially a beautiful enemy. Schuldig was almost flattered his kitten thought he was beautiful as he pinned the now flailing arms down easily, the assassin's strength lost to any number of cocktails. Terror and self-loathing made the sweetest honey indeed.

Taking things a step further, Schuldig brought Youji's awareness away from the effects of alcohol, leaving his toy completely aware, but unable to control his mind. It was as if he was observing someone else rather than seeing himself. He could only watch as his hands and lips sought out Schuldig, acting on the most base of his desires, while his mind tried to escape to no avail. As fun as it was to watch him struggle against his own hidden needs, Schuldig wanted more. He wanted to break the pretty mind, just a little. He let Youji have a little more of his mind back, so he could think on his own, but still lacked the ability to control himself.

/You know you want me kitten. Admit it./

_'You're a sick bastard!'_

/But you want me./

_'Get out of my head and leave me alone you pervert!' _He was trying his best to sound vicious.

/If you hate this so much, why cant you keep your hands off me?/

_'That's your doing ass hole!' _He was scared. Even his mental voice could not hide the tremor of fear. Schuldig was winning and loving it.

/Oh no kitten... that's all you... I just suppressed you inhibitions, you want to do this, deep down, you want me./

_'No... you're lying...'_ He traced the angles of his jaw with a long finger, pausing to watch as Youji's coherent side fought to stop the soft moan from escaping his lips. It was a losing battle, and the kitten knew it.

/I never lie./ Schuldig was in ecstasy, watching in anticipation as his kittens mind began to retreat back into the dark corners where he had once kept his little secrets, trying desperately not to admit the truth. The cold green eyes glazed over as the raw emotions seeped across the mental connection, it was hard to prepare for. This honey mind felt everything so hard, so clear; his pain was immense just as his lust was wild. He could almost feel the reverberations from the confusion tearing his kitten apart.

_'No....'_ Schuldig knew his kitten was slipping... a little push would be all he needed to fall into despair. So he pushed. Just a simple matter of triggering a certain bunch of neurons, and letting them send a signal down to a place Youji couldn't ignore. It worked. As he became aware of his own arousal, Youji's conscious mind froze; there was no denying what was growing more and more obvious. Had his awareness and his body been connected, Schuldig was sure there would be tears of shame rolling down that pretty face.

/Say it.../

_'I... I...' _He couldn't hide and he knew it.

/Say it kitten.../ He felt the final strings snap as the last of his kittens determination failed him.

_'I want you damn it! I want you!'_

The utter humiliation sent Schuldig over the edge; the rush of manipulating another's mind sending him flying higher than any cigarette or drug. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, addicting; better than sex could ever be. Only a lifetime of practice kept him from getting lost in his kittens mind forever. Slowly he forced himself to retreat, to pull the power of his mind out of the mess he had created. If he stayed any longer, he didn't think he'd ever be able to make himself leave. Youji instantly became drunk again, finding his hands back in his own clumsy control. He was completely disoriented, the alcohol slamming into his mind like some wild tsunami. Schuldig stood and smirked, looming down at a now sobbing assassin, and found enough self control to detach himself from the euphoria of Youji's terrified, confused and broken psyche. He turned to leave, but stopped, remembering one last thing he needed to do. He still had one last game to play. He slipped back into the ruined mind, and with a little nudge put Youji deep into sleep. Then he found his kittens memories of the evening and stole them, wiping them clean and replacing them with tiny flashes of his desire, bits of his lust for long red hair, and guilt. Lots of guilt; with no idea about anything else.

With a final taste of that sweet honey, Schuldig ended his connection with the Weiss assassin, and left the sleeping man alone; to wake in a strange place, with strange dreams, disheveled clothes and a killer headache. He had a crooked grin fixed to his face as he exited the building and disappeared into the shadows of the sleeping city, knowing his handiwork would surely add to the angst and entertainment for next Friday's evening. He licked his lips, tasting the last of Youji's physical and mental remnants as he flagged down a cab. Even though he was completely sated now, his mind in a haze of indescribable bliss, he knew it was going to be a long week. His sweet tooth was insatiable.


End file.
